Pulled From the Depths
by ZaCloud
Summary: Young Cloud has failed the SOLDIER exam yet again, now in complete despair. With nothing left to live for, can he suddenly gain something special? Warning: Attempted suicide. Main Characters: Zack and Cloud.


ï»¿

(Edit 02/23/08 - Wow, so many people have enjoyed this story. I'm glad it has been worth the time for many folks to read. Anyways, I'm just adding this little note since now Zack has an official last name (Zack Fair). I could update the story with it, but I think I'll leave it as Roderick for now, as a piece of history for when all of us fanficcers have been making up last names for him. ;) And even though their first meeting happened differently according to Crisis Core, well, us ficwriters can still dream can't we:P In future stories when I have time to write again, I will use his official name.

Okies, read now! ;; )

----------------------------

"I hope you had a good breakfast, kid… Cuz you're gonna be tastin' it again!"

Cloud braced himself, but sure enough the ship's jerking and pitching was enough to cause his stomach to churn and the burning sensation of acid to rise in his mouth. But he swallowed it down bravely; puking on the airship was not an option, and he wasn't exactly keen on vomiting into his uniform, the only other choice. It wasn't only the thrashing of the carrier twisting his innards, however…

It was what lay ahead.

Had he not been wearing gloves, his nails would have been digging into his palms through the whole trip. He could hear his own heart thudding blood past his ears. He knew he should just relax and let his training carry him through, but the anxiety simply refused to lift. He did not feel confident in himself, did not believe he would come through with victory. After all, that was how things had always been for him; why should they change now?

"Touchdown in thirty seconds!" the pilot announced.

The commander, in his blood-red uniform, nodded to the young troops. "Alright, this is where we find out who's the boys an' who's the men. Like we drilled; grab your guns an' go, the objective's the only victory. An' no teamwork bullshit this time, Chocobo-head, this is every man for himself an' every kid for the grave."

Cloud swallowed and nodded, eyes narrowed, belting out "Yes, sir!" like the others but with extra grit. He certainly knew better this time, and was more determined to succeed than allow others to pass by him. It wasn't exactly confidence, but the determination did help him believe he could do something this time…

The ship hovered over the ground, the troops filing like ants in fast-forward to grab their guns and rush into the thundering outdoors. It was storming fiercely. Footing was treacherously slippery, and there was little light aside from the heavenly flashes echoing the gunshots that hailed the young group. It was as if the very sky were firing upon them, on the same side as the enemy. A few of the boys hung back, but most of them rushed forward as gunshots zoomed by. Cloud was one of the latter, eyes narrowed, ignoring the cold and the wind and the projectiles. He had to do this. He had to. He would rather die than screw up again…

The scenario ran in his mind as it had all day: Get to the trench, cover the superiors as they come in from the flanks and grenade the front enemy ranks, then infiltrate. Hold and secure the position, then search it for one of seven materia hidden within the base. That materia would…

Cloud was stricken hard in the thigh, and he collapsed face-down in the mud, his cry of pain and shock instantly garbled. Another shot hit him in the back. He could feel his lungs lock up, colors danced even in front of his closed lids, and his world went black.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So it happened again, eh? He didn't even make it to the trench."

"Don't sound so frustrated, Gilman. It wasn't for the same reason as last time; a freak accident. Those shooters aren't actually supposed to hit the cadets on the way to the trench."

"Stop trying to excuse the boy, Roderick. The enemy doesn't pull punches in real battles, they shouldn't on the testing grounds."

Young Cloud Strife, bruised from the paintball rounds, lay with the words burning in his ears and his eyes squeezed closed. He didn't know which was worse; the unforgiving officer, or the SOLDIER standing up for him. Though certainly his failure was the worst. His face was so ablaze with shame that it was painful.

The nurse walked past the conversing military members outside the door and came into the room. "Too bad, huh?" she commented, "Oh well, you're still very young; maybe next time. Here's some pain medication; those aren't normal paintballs as you can feel, not with range like that… Come on, I know you're not asleep, up we go; you're not hurt enough to whine for materia healing, are you?"

Cloud sat up quickly and flung the offered pills away, then scrambled out of the bed and out of the room, rushing headlong past the men who were talking and down the hall. If either of them had yelled for him to stop, he was incapable of hearing them.

The barracks were empty, the lights dim; it was off-time so the ones who passed that phase of the SOLDIER exam could celebrate, and the losers could recuperate. Cloud sat on his bed heavily, and a sob tore itself from his throat. He began to shake, and the sobs continued, tears falling from his pale blue eyes. He had failed yet again. This was the third time. He had applied for the test every two months it was available, and every time he had failed. Every time, before even making it to the important parts. It was as if he were destined to lose, completely incapable of succeeding no matter what effort he put into it.

Cloud felt worthless, despaired, angry at himself, angry at the world. The levels fluctuated with each time he pounded his fist against his pillow. Then against his bruised thigh, rupturing still more blood vessels under the skin. He continued the punishment for a few more blows; he deserved it. Deserved this pain. Deserved worse. Everyone was right; they'd always told him he would amount to nothing, that he was a failure. He had dared to hope differently in order to help Tifa, but now he would never make it to SOLDIER as he had promised to her…

His hand slowly closed over his service pistol, drawing it partially from the holster. He could feel it rattle against the sides as his hand shook. He paused, wondering what he was doing. Then he continued the motion, bringing the deceptively quiet instrument out and looking at it. This was far from the first time; so very often had he pulled it out when nobody else was around. So often had he struggled with internal arguments as he'd rested it against his temple. So often had he cringed at the cold steel touching his vulnerable throat. So often had he tasted the blood-like metal as he'd inserted it into his mouth. Which way would be best? This would be the last time, after all, so of all the things in his life he'd screwed up, he hoped this would be the one thing he could do right…

He closed his eyes, raising his head and letting the now familiar barrel press between his chin and throat, now feeling calm and ready. He imagined the sensation of the bullet tearing through his tongue, through back of his mouth and into his brain, and he accepted it. His finger tightened.

"Shhh…. Sssshhhhh….."

Cloud's eyes slowly opened. Someone had caught him? But why would they emit such a gentle, comforting sound? His vision, blurred from tears and fogged by a reality that now seemed surreal in his preparation for death, caught a tall form in the doorway, framed by raven black hair. The prominent glow of violet from his eyes, amplified by the darkness of the room, made the young man's status immediately clear.

The figure slowly raised his hands. "It's alright, kid… There's no need for that. I think it's better if we talk this out first."

Cloud got it; had the guy yelled "No, don't!" or something, it might have startled him into pulling the trigger. This guy instead aimed to stop him. Cloud kept the gun where it was, watching the SOLDIER with his head only slightly turned, but his hands were shaking fiercely now. "N-no… No, no, I can't… I'm done, I'm done, I've had enough, I can't do anything, I can't I CAN'T!" The last word came with a sob, and the tears began to spill over again.

The tall one slowly edged a few feet into the room and knelt. "That wasn't your fault, kiddo," he said quietly, his voice as smooth as honey, "I don't care what those bastards in command say, you shouldn't blame yourself. Besides, there's a lot more to life than bein' in SOLDIER."

"It's all I had…" Cloud whimpered, his grip growing sweaty, the shaking toning down but his arms becoming exhausted. His eyes closed. "It's all I had… They won't let me try anymore, it's over, everything's over…"

The gun was out of Cloud's hand. The boy hadn't even heard the SOLDIER move, had no time to tighten his grip or resist. The thing that was going to save him from his miserable life was gone. But before he could even recover from the shock, try to grab for it again or escape, he was surrounded by a pair of muscular arms, immobilized.

"Kids like us aren't supposed to die yet," the captor whispered, "We've got a lotta life ahead of us."

"Let me go! Let go!" Cloud cried out, struggling futilely, alternating between growls and more sobs. A hand went to the back of his head and pressed gently but firmly, muffling the blonde's protests against the SOLDIER's neck.

"Shhhhh…" he said once more, "You'll be alright… It might not feel like it, but you will be alright. My name's Zack. Zack Roderick. What's your name?" He eased up a bit with his hand.

"Let me go…" Cloud whimpered, by now shaking so hard he most likely could not stand had his demand been fulfilled anyway, "I can't… I can't…"

"You can tell me later, then," said Zack, "For now I'll call you Spike, that alright?"

"…can't… I'm…" Cloud was now crying quietly into the crook of Zack's shoulder.

Zack gently patted Cloud on the back with one hand, and petted the back of his head with the other. "I know you feel awful, Spike. There's somethin' more goin' on than most can understand. You're not weak an' you're not bein' a sore loser. This meant the world to you… But the world is so much bigger than you've seen yet. There's great things to see an' do, Spike. And you can. You really can."

He felt the blonde, spiky head shake in mild denial. Zack moved his hands to Cloud's shoulders and softly moved back to look him in the face. "Gimme a look, kiddo, lemme see you."

Slowly Cloud raised his head, his eyes hesitating to meet Zack's, by now red and swollen from crying. He was surprised to see the other's eyes were also reddened and threatening to release tears as well. But there was a warm, sincere smile below them, on a face that was not that much older than Cloud himself.

"No matter how bad things get," Zack intoned, "I'm here for ya, Spike. I'm gonna promise that here an' now. I dunno just how alone you've been, but you're one friend richer today, alright?"

Cloud's head lowered and his eyes squeezed shut. "You… don't even know me," he croaked out, seeming ready to curl up into oblivion. Was this guy going through the trouble just because he felt sorry for Cloud?

"For me, everyone's a friend 'till proven otherwise," Zack said, his smile still there, soft and sympathetic, yet full of hope, "But you, I already know there's somethin' extra cool about you. You helped another candidate last time; I know the commanders didn't like that, but if it were up to me that'd be an actual requirement. You really wanna succeed, but you're not selfish. Far from it. I respect that from the get-go, Spike."

Cloud slowly loosened, and his eyes were able to meet Zack's under his own power. "..Really?"

Zack nodded. "Definitely." He kept his right hand on Cloud's left shoulder as he moved and sat on the bed next to him. "Hell, there's a lot wrong with the system; even bein' a SOLDIER ain't all it's cracked up to be. I just wanted to see the world. Heh, but you better interrupt me; I'm the type who can never shut up once I get goin'. You talk all you need to about what's got you so sad, Zack'll listen."

The young blonde could have indeed talked about his lifetime of failure, about the promise he'd made to a girl he liked, about how he had never truly had a close friend in his life… but somehow, he felt alright. His tears had washed out much of his pain, and being close to someone who actually cared about him had taken care of all the rest.

Right then, everything was fine. Moments after he had felt he had nothing, Cloud had gained something of immeasurable worth.

Cloud slowly, gradually, smiled. "My name is Cloud Strife… You can keep calling me 'Spike' though… I don't mind."

-owari-


End file.
